10.30.04: Ok...reposting, again. Sorry, but reading through it, I found some problems, not to mention that I noticed that some things just didn't sound right anymore. This is definitely a work in progress...It's like that one story that will never be perfect and will take years to finish, if at all. shrug There's not enough changes to re-read, but if you want to, go ahead! And for those new readers, thanks for checking out my story!
Some random day: Just fixing a few errors, for those who've already read this chapter...and I'll have a few explanations at the beginning of the next chapter on some things I didn't want to say at the beginning of this one, so as not to give away anything. Also a shout out to fauxmuggle, my first reviewer, I am terribly sorry if reposting this will take away your review, but I have it saved somewhere special. Thank you so much for your constructive criticism and kind words!
Summary: This is a girl's quest to find out just why she was placed in a house with people she hates. A witch, raised as a muggle, finds out about her family history. Unexpectedly, she is inducted into Slytherin House, and is doing everything in her power to find out why.
A/N: Man, that's a sucky summary. I just wasn't sure how to summarize it. Well, this is certainly not my first fanfiction. Just the first one I've posted and have enough drive to finish. : ) Please review, I'd really like some constructive criticism! Try not to flame; constructive criticism is by far more helpful in a world of hate. (Ok, that sounded a little cheesy, but I meant it.)
Preliminary Discoveries
My name is Raven Harrell
And I hate my house.
Ok, I'm sure that made no sense to those who have no inkling as to what I'm on about. Allow me to explain .
As I am sure only people of my kind will read this, so I will not go into elaborate detail as to how it all works or the nature of such well-known characteristics.
Oh bloody hell, listen to me. I sound like some famous muggle author who does nothing but think of clever ways to state simple concepts .
Now back to subject. My house. I hate it. Not the old cottage my mother lives in back in England. No, the "house" that I am currently sitting in within the great walls of this magnificent school. I am talking of the "Noble" House of Slytherin residing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Many of my housemates may kill me at reading those words. Let them try. Those fools are not very scary or intimidating. They just hide behind their family's names and a stupid old man with power issues. Yes, I am speaking of Voldemort. And quit your gasps of shock. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Or so I heard one brilliant witch say one day, and I agree .
Which actually brings me to the beginning of this whole fiasco.
Seeing as I was raised a muggle, it came as a huge surprise to me when I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts. At first, I thought it was a joke. Me, a witch. Hmph. Nope, sorry, not me. Not that I didn't believe in the mythical or magical, I just didn't think that I was a part of it, as much as I longed to be sometimes. And now I finally was .
That was when my mother told me. I think she knew she couldn't avoid the subject after I got my letter. I'm not sure why she waited so long to say something. She would have had to tell me eventually, anyway .
She started with my father. See, I had always thought my father was killed in the muggle Gulf War. I knew he had died shortly after I was conceived. What I didn't know was that my mother and father were both magical folk. Apparently, dad's parents were muggles, and so he (and my mother) were targeted by Voldemort and his followers, and my father was killed. My then pregnant mother fled and hid, starting a life as a muggle, raising me on her own, with a little help from her parents. Goddess knows how she managed. Growing up in a well-to-do wizard family, knowing only magic, and then raising her only child as a muggle to keep her safe. She was incredibly grateful for what little news and money her parents could send her unnoticed for the first few years. Until they too, were murdered. The money mum took to Gringotts, to exchange it for muggle money to live off of. The news she kept hidden, storing it away for me, when I came of age .
The news of my family's real history shocked me into tears. I had hardly understood the stuff about the bank, and learning to live like a…muggle, as my mother called them. I mean, wasn't I, though with Wizard decent, still at heart a muggle? My mother and non-magical ways were all I knew my whole life. Mum's warm smiles, home baked cookies, homemade spaghetti and macaroni and cheese. Now all she has ever told me about her family and my father and his family were lies. The only truth was how mum and dad met. At school. At Hogwarts, where I would be attending soon. Oh, what a cruel joke this was. I realized then that I had never seen a picture of dad or any thing else from mum's younger days. I asked her about it, and a sad but understanding look passed over her face. Then she took me by the hand and led me to the attic.
In old wooden boxes, hidden in the wall, mother had stowed away her things. I was shocked to see the photographs of mum and dad together. They were moving! So this was why she never showed me. Oh, and how handsome father was! And how beautiful and thin mother looked when age, worry and a hard life were not upon her shoulders. Not that mother was unattractive. She was tall, if not a little plump, with shining blue eyes that always sparkled and long dark hair, straight as an arrow. And as to the pictures of father, he was also tall, with jet-black curly hair falling into his black eyes, which were framed with gold rims. He also was thin and seemed to hold his head high and stand tall. They looked so in love. I sighed at the thought.
I suppose I've never mentioned what I look like. And I suppose what I'll tell you is only my own opinion, which most would say is untrue. Especially Mum.
As I've said before, both my parents had dark hair, so it's only natural that I do too. Seeing as my mother's hair is straight, and my father's curly, my hair wound up somewhere in between. Long and wavy, it tends to fall into soft curls down my back and surprisingly, never tangles. My eyes are completely different than either of my parents, however. I've always thought they were blue/grey, but one day, my friend Raquel asked if my eyes had always been so green. Sure enough, when I looked in the mirror, they were a bright, clear green. Startlingly viridescent against the slight tan of my skin .
I wouldn't call myself fat, although I've felt that way more than once. My mother always told me that I just developed sooner that other girls. While I was only eleven, I already had a chest growing, soon to be the bane of my existence. My curves were already filling out my boyish child's figure, making me appear older than my years. And I hated it. While the media made it seem that boys would like you if you had a large chest, I found that fact to be quite the opposite. As they started being interested in stick-thin girls, I was that fat one no one liked. Oh well. My books were more interesting than boys anyway, even if they are generally cute. Stupid prats .
Speaking of books and boys, after I had learned of my family history, my mother and I took a trip to London, to go to Gringotts to withdraw some money for my school supplies. My grandparents had set up an account in my name, for when I came of the age to attend Hogwarts, which I undoubtedly would. As I mentioned before, I still don't understand why my mother kept it all a secret, knowing where I would be attending in eleven years.
Upon arriving in Diagon Alley, I was amazed at the sheer fancifulness of it all. The reminiscence of Old London swelled in my chest, I had always been interested in history and traditions of old culture. Old shops were all crammed together, bobbles and food sat on tables and in bins out in the cobblestone street. And the clothes the other witches and wizards were wearing stood out in bright, velvety colours with rich embroidery. I couldn't wait to get my own robes. We moved down the street and approached a tall stone building with beautiful columns reaching up into the sky.
Gringotts was a grand building and although my mother had described the goblins, I was still fascinated and a little wary of them.
We approached the nearest available goblin and my mother pulled out an old key made of brass and informed the goblin that I would like to make a withdrawl. It wasn't so simple, however. Although I had the key, I needed to prove I was of age to open the vault. Since my mother had no wizard documents for my birth, she showed the goblin the muggle ones. The goblin looked at the documents in confusion, and then proceeded to call for his supervisor. After a little explaining, the supervisor allowed the access to the vault, and we were led to a cart on tracks that would lead us to my vault .
The ride was exhilarating, if not a little fast. Mother didn't handle it too well, muttering about always hating that thing when we got off. I thought it was rather like a roller coaster, which I liked well enough. Once we were outside, we immediately went to task of buying all of my needed school supplies .
First we went to Ollivander's, to buy my wand. He was a nice old man, I thought, with sparkling blue eyes, as wise as their years. He was delighted to see Mum again, reciting her wand as though he had just sold it to her yesterday. Grinning kindly, he set about his store, bringing down wands for me to try
It didn't take long to find my wand: mahogany, unicorn hair core, sturdy, twelve inches long, good for transfiguration. I was so excited I could hardly keep it in the box as we left and went to the next store.
I was fitted for robes at Madam Malkin's, and I bought a few extra fashionable ones to wear on off days. Next we went to the apothecary, which smelled quite foul. Quickly, we bought my needed supplies and phials and left .
Mother asked if I would like an animal, but seeing as I wanted a cat, and I wasn't allowed to have one, I declined, saying I would probably buy one later .
We bought my cauldron, my quills and ink, with a few extra colours in there: red, blue, green and purple. Then we headed off to Flourish and Blotts to buy my textbooks .
Upon entering, it was obvious there was some sort of gathering in the back of the store. Looking around, piles and piles of books, with even more shelves lined with old tomes. It was my wildest dream come true. I was in heaven. So many books…I immediately went to task to get all of my books for the year, and stopped to pick up a few extras for background information .
Just as I was finishing up my browsing, my mother off to talk with old friends, it became suddenly quiet as everyone's attention was diverted to the back of the store .
They were introducing some wizard named Gilderoy Lockhart, a rather fake-looking bloke in my opinion. His smile was much too wide and well, his robes made him look rather odd. Just fake all around, even his voice and laughter sounded fake.
Right away, he singled out a boy from the crowd, apparently named Harry Potter. He was a cute boy with messy dark hair, deep green eyes and round glasses. He looked a little dirty, but it only added to his shy charm. He didn't look very happy to be up front in the spotlight with "Mr. Fake. "
Taking a look at one of the books displayed up at the front of the store, called Magical Me, I looked at the ridiculous picture of Lockhart on the cover, and scoffed. Glancing down at my supply list, I noticed that the book was one of my required texts. Groaning inwardly, I put the book in my already towering stack and moved to the history section near the front window.
If I hadn't been looking over Hogwarts, a History, I probably would have missed this next event. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of white sunlight. I turned my head and saw another boy, attractive as well, but such the opposite of Harry Potter that I had to wonder if he was actually human .
His bright white-blond hair was swept back off of his pale aristocratic face in such a way that would have looked horribly wrong on anyone else. He held himself as a royal would, proud and graceful. Mercury-blue eyes flashed a microsecond my way before moving onto their next target.
I was so entranced by his beauty that I almost didn't hear his next words .
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" he said while walking down the staircase. "Famous Harry Potter, can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page. "
It was then I noticed that the Harry Potter boy and a group of red-haired Hogwarts students, along with a bushy-haired girl were about to leave the shop when the boy intercepted them .
"Leave him alone," a small girl with bright red hair and a soot smudged face glared at the sun-boy.
The sun-boy's face lit up in laughter. "Oh look Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend! "
Suddenly a snake-headed cane hit the sun-boy on the shoulder, pushing him aside. A rather annoyed look passed over the boy's face, and with a roll of his eyes he moved over.
"Now, now, Draco. Play nicely." An older man with the same white-blonde hair entered the bookshop. I nearly gasped at the cold iciness that pulsated from this man. It was so much different from the harsh but warm sensation I had gotten from the sun-boy, Draco.
The icy-cold of the man's voice brought me back to the situations in front of me. "Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy, we meet at last." He held out his hand. As soon as Harry took it, Lucius pulled him forward, using his cane to move the hair on Harry's forehead aside. Lucius Malfoy spoke again .
"Forgive me. Your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard who gave it to you." He smiled slightly.
Harry glared back. "Voldemort killed my parents. He was nothing more than a murderer. "
I had gaped in silent shock. Harry's parents were killed too? Oh, I hope I'm in the same house as he is! I'd love to talk to him…find out how he's dealt with it…
"You must be very brave to mention his name," Lucius drawled. "Or very foolish. "
The bushy-haired girl piped up. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. "
Lucius looked calculatingly at her. "And you must be Miss Granger?" Draco nodded his affirmation. "Yes, Draco has told me all about you. And your parents. Muggles, aren't they?" He then turned to the red-haired group. "Let me see. Red hair, vacant expressions…tatty second-hand book. You must be the Weasleys."
An older red-haired wizard came into view. "Children, it's mad in here. Let's get outside. "
"Well, well, well. Weasley Senior. "
"Lucius." The older Weasley said shortly .
"Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, all those extra raids? I do hope they're paying you overtime…but judging by the state of this," Lucius gestured to the small Weasley girl's book, "I'd say not." Suddenly, his demeanour turned colder, if that was possible. "What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Arthur Weasley narrowed his eyes at the other man. "We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy. "
"Clearly." He tutted. "Associating with muggles. And I thought your family could sink no lower." Mr. Weasley's eyes widened slightly. "I'll see you at work," Malfoy senior said, walking away .
Draco approached Harry. "See you at school." Mercury-blue eyes flashed my way again, then they were gone.
I realised then that I had been holding my breath. Letting it out in a whoosh, I saw Harry and his friends leave, while I went to pay for my books and find my mother.
For the rest of the summer, I spent my time going over all of my schoolbooks, asking my mother questions and laying on my bed thinking about the encounter I had witnessed at Flourish and Blotts.
I mulled over the statement the Granger girl made, finding it very true and also appropriate. Although I didn't know much about Voldemort's reign, I had made enough deductions to guess that people in the wizarding world were really quite scared he might be alive somewhere, waiting to return, even if they couldn't admit it .
I also thought about the saying, "Giving evil a name only gives it power." I thought that this was also true, but since this evil already had a name, to speak it only shows no fear .
Then my thoughts would turn to Harry Potter and the sun-boy, Draco Malfoy. I asked my mother about their families, if she knew anything. She told me that yes; Harry Potter's parents were killed by Voldemort, shortly after my father was. She had no idea what really happened to the boy, only that Voldemort tried to kill Harry when he was only a year old, but couldn't. That was how he got the scar on his forehead, she said. But that was all she knew of him, other than the fact that his parents were just wonderful people, and it was a shame that they had been killed .
She then told me all she knew of the Malfoy's, obviously becoming very upset as she went on .
"They're a very powerful family, Raven. Never underestimate a Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. Actually, I think he still is a follower of Voldemort. He may even have…k-killed your father." After a deep breath, she continued. "Mum and Dad had managed to tell me that the Malfoys had claimed to be under the Imperious Curse, a curse that lets the caster control the victim. I think its rubbish. Apparently, Malfoy has been donating money to parts of the Ministry of Magic, as well as Hogwarts School. I think he has everyone under his thumb, trying to cover up what he's done." She sighed, then excused herself to make some tea, sniffling and rubbing at her eyes .
Mumbling a thanks, I retreated to my room. Flopping down on the bed, I thought over the information I had gathered. From the encounter I witnessed; I could definitely tell that Lucius Malfoy was a very dangerous and hateful man. His son, on the other hand, Draco, well for some reason he didn't seem so bad. Sure his upbringing left much to be desired, seeing as how he obviously thought much like his father. But the strange feeling I had gotten about him when he glanced my way held back any fear of him.
And Harry…well it was obvious that he had suffered, but seemed to have a good group of supporters, Miss Granger and the Weasleys .
Both boys stood out in like night and day in my mind, with their demeanours standing roughly against their outward appearances. It seemed like the brighter form of Draco harboured darkness inside, while the dark form of Harry harboured light .
I pondered if I would be housed with either of them, hoping more to be with Harry, to talk to him about our parents…I needed someone to relate to, terribly .
But Draco intrigued me greatly, and I wished to see what he was really like.
I wondered what this new school had in store for me, and if I'd be able to handle it.
Thanks for reading! Please review!
